


Rojigualda

by lady_valkyria



Series: Something just like this [7]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: AKA "when will my husband return from the war", Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, a bit of angst, the "I just miss Javi" incident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 08:49:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16991841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_valkyria/pseuds/lady_valkyria
Summary: Rojigualda- the Spanish flag, red and gold.Yuzuru finds that missing Javier is something that happens not in one single moment, but in increments.





	Rojigualda

**Author's Note:**

> My gawd, I'm so rusty. I'm slowly trying to get my writing mojo back, but then the good friends at the Olympic Channel came through with [this](https://twitter.com/olympicchannel/status/1072869658514976771) and pushed me over the edge to _write something, dammit_ , so yeah. They're to blame for this :P

 

 

Yuzuru knew he was going to miss Javier once his partner retired from competition. He had always known, even before the quiet confession besides the rink in Pyeongchang, though that knowledge had proven to be a very poor dam against the flow of emotions coursing through him at the time.

Javier’s retirement was always going to happen. It was a fact of life none of them could fight against, only do their best to grow around. Yuzuru had wanted to think he would be ready for the shift, that it wouldn’t catch him by surprise.

And yet.

As time goes on, Yuzuru finds that missing Javier is something that happens not in one single moment, within the turn of one day into another, or at a concrete date he can mark on the calendar. Instead, it happens in increments; the small, everyday things that don’t seem that important until they are. Until they grow so much they press uncomfortably against his ribs with every beat of his heart.

Yuzuru expected the dull pain of distance, but not this constant reminder that his rhythm has changed in some fundamental, hidden way; not this sharp metronome of awareness.

 

* * *

 

 

It doesn’t start like this.

Coming back to the Cricket Club after the summer shows to Javier’s empty locker is only par for the course. While Yuzuru starts preparation for every season chomping at the bit and rearing to go, Javier tends to cling to the downtime of the holidays for as long as he can possibly get away with. No amount of friendly ribbing has ever overpowered the call of family and Spain’s sunshine, and so Yuzuru is used to Javier’s late start. Nothing has really changed.

 _He’ll come back_.

New additions to the roster at the Club are also easily explained away. Summer and early season are primetime for clinics and camps, and the intermittent in and out of new faces at the rink is something Yuzuru registers only in the periphery of his own focus. Objectively, he knows some of those are going to become permanent fixtures, but subconsciously it doesn’t feel that different. He likes everyone well enough, and they are all there to train, anyway. It is normal.

_He’ll come back._

The Autumn Classic comes and goes, and something starts itching beneath Yuzuru’s skin. Javier would’ve known about Junhwan’s little celebration party, would’ve been an encouraging and boisterous presence to temper Yuzuru’s edge, like always. But he isn’t there, and he hasn’t.

Yuzuru doesn’t stay for long. Instead, he goes straight home and calls Javier, his blood pumping uneasily until the smooth, loving voice of his partner slides over him like a balm.

“Hello, _cariño_.”

“Javi.”

“Everything okay? You sound out of breath.”

“…I just run home.”

“After practice? Why? Did Brian finally chase you off?”

Javier’s laughter at his own silly joke makes the itch disappear, allowing Yuzuru to fall back on their easy banter without further trouble. He tells himself it’s just the distance getting to him, it happens to them sometimes. This is no different.

_He’ll come back._

_He’ll come back._

The Grand Prix season rolls in. Yuzuru goes to Finland, wins a gold medal, and when he comes back to Toronto the air in his home rink feels extra cold in his lungs, uncomfortable and unwelcome for the first time in forever, and it raises goosebumps on his bare skin.

_He should be here._

After that, even Yuzuru can notice his own mood taking a turn for the forlorn. He wants to be mad about the fact, because it really is not the time for being a lovesick fool, but for once he can’t reel in the feelings in his heart with the determination of his mind.

This time, it’s not as easy. This time, it’s not the same.

Yuzuru can’t keep lying to himself, omitting a truth that the world around him keeps blaring from all sides, because ignoring it won’t make it go away.

Truth is, Javier’s always been a part of the Cricket Club and Canada for Yuzuru, intrinsically linked and related. The Spaniard was there when Yuzuru joined the team, and there for every subsequent up-and-down throughout the seasons together. A constant, a beacon; someone to reach for, and someone to beat. The one who knew with a look, who understood the most. The spark of competition in gentle features, and the warmth of a body made hard by the same sport they both loved, but kept soft and welcoming for the person who had their heart.

Yuzuru is used to having Javier’s presence beside him, his figure a comforting shadow at the corner of his vision, always in motion.

Now there’s only an empty space, because the kid who has taken Javier’s spot in their stroking class formation is still too young and small to come up higher than Yuzuru’s chest.

One day, suddenly, the dissonance becomes a fuller chord. The twinge in his chest builds into a sharp ache, and Yuzuru has to stop skating altogether. He throws his head back, eyes closed, blowing steam into the air as he waits for the hurt to pass, to dissolve, to mute itself down. The sound of the group’s blades moves ahead of him, everyone’s pattern continuing almost seamlessly despite Yuzuru’s fall out of line, and he feels _stuck_.

He hates this.

A spark of anger at himself ignites behind his eyelids, because _you don’t have time for this, everyone out there is waiting, pull yourself together_ , but when he opens them it evaporates into little more than thin smoke.

Javier’s flag is still there; red, and gold, and then red again. Spain’s colours draw his gaze in just like they do after competitions, when some part of Yuzuru still brightens at the thought of so many people appreciating the man those same colours have become an equivalent to, just like Yuzuru himself does.

Javier might not be back, but he’s not gone. His tired but excited recount of the latest show in Spain still lingers in the back of Yuzuru’s mind, warm with happiness and pride, and the spaces left behind are not so much empty as full of good memories and a healthy longing.

_He always did look good wrapped in victory and the colours of his home._

Yuzuru can’t be sure of how long he’s been standing there, eyes veiled with yearning while looking at the one particular flag, but it doesn’t go unnoticed. Brian doubles back from the front of the group, the scratch of his blades familiar when he stops beside Yuzuru to join his student in contemplation.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

Yuzuru mulls his answer for a moment. It’s an easy enough question, and in typical Brian fashion, supposed to be only as deep as he wants to make it. His coach must know, but it probably goes further than that. Yuzuru believes that Brian understands, because he hasn’t been the only one glancing at the spaces Javier used to occupy. Yuzuru isn’t the only one left behind, if definitely not forgotten. Many people there carry a similarly Javier-sized hole in their hearts.

“What’s wrong?”

That’s the crux of it, right? Nothing really is, but it doesn’t make the feeling go away. They just have to breathe through it, and keep going forward.

Yuzuru makes a conscious choice to be truthful, if concise.

“I just miss Javi.”

Brian doesn’t say anything for a moment, but his eyes go softer, his features settling down into something more restful, more comforting. He must be reminiscing, too, since the smile he finally throws Yuzuru’s way has a bittersweet edge to it.

“Yeah, me too.” The weight of Brian’s hand on Yuzuru’s shoulder is a welcome one, the light pat of the gesture meant to be reassuring as much as a reassurance. “But he’ll come back.”

The words want to bounce inside Yuzuru’s skull, reverberating with the notion that _no he won’t, it won’t be the same ever again_ , but there’s a part of him that manages to smother the downward spiral that lies that way. It’s not the same, it won’t ever be the same, but change has never been something to scare Yuzuru away. There’s growth in change, and evolution; it doesn’t have to be an end when it can be a beginning.

The start of another chapter.

_It’s not forever._

Yuzuru feels tension leave his body, shoulders dropping in a long sigh, and he can finally return Brian’s smile with confidence and the usual twinkle in his eye.

“Still miss him. He bring me tea, sometimes. To warm my fingers.”

“He spoiled you, alright. Now I get to deal with the fallout,” laughs Brian. Yuzuru just snorts, throwing a weak, playful punch to his coach’s middle in retaliation. He gets shushed away instantly. “Come on, off with you. Class is still in session, you know; no time for moping around.”

“ _Hai~”_

Yuzuru’s about to turn back towards the group when Brian, still standing underneath the Spanish flag, calls to him again.

“Hey, Yuzu.” Their eyes don’t meet, but Yuzuru catches the fond, gentle lilt in his coach’s voice. “Don’t carry the weight alone, okay? Talk to him.”

“I do.” Yuzuru wishes exercise would be enough of an excuse for the blush he can feel gathering on his cheeks, but before someone that knows him like Brian does, he’s not so sure. He doesn’t feel stupid or clingy, not really, but he fears he’ll sound it. “We talk yesterday.”

“Then call him again. He wouldn’t want you to hold this inside.”

With a simple nod of acknowledgement, Yuzuru silently agrees and skates away.

He does make the call to Spain, later that same day. And just as Brian predicted, his partner welcomes the effort, reaches back himself; after all, Yuzuru is not the only person in Toronto who _knows_ Javier.

“I’m so sorry you feel like this, _cariño_ ,” croons Javier, the moment Yuzuru stops beating around the bush and sniffles a confession down the line. “God knows I don’t miss the hard training, but I do miss you guys.”

“Not all the time, but sometimes, you know? Is sneaky.” Yuzuru presses the phone against his ear, curling further into himself on top of the duvet on his bed, as if any such action could make them closer. “I think ‘Javi find this funny’ and look for you, and then it just hurt.”

“Shit.” Javier’s voice goes rough, muffled around the edges, and Yuzuru can easily picture him dragging his free hand over his face in an attempt at holding the barrage of emotion in. “I really want to give you a hug right now. I don’t like being the reason you’re unhappy.”

“But Javi make me so happy.” The chuckle is weak, a bit watery, but very real. “Stupid brain can’t deal sometimes, but is not your fault. I want you happy, too, and Spain make you happy.”

“Spain would be so much better if you were here with me, though,” Javier sighs. “There’s so much to do, people come and go every day, and I don’t get that much time to myself anymore. It gets lonely.”

“Oh, Javi…”

“Guess we make a nice pair of morose idiots from time to time, eh?”

The self-deprecating tone is so familiar that it surprises a laugh out of Yuzuru and stops his tears, even if he still feels a bit like crying. “Love you, even if you idiot.”

“Love you too, even if you’re overdramatic,” Javier chuckles in response. There’s a moment of silence, both of them listening to the subtle white noise of the line while they breathe together, calm once more even though they’re still an ocean apart. Then, “god, I can’t wait to see you again.”

Yuzuru feels his own longing pulsing in response, deep within his bones. “Later?”

The twinkle of hope that carries his voice in the upturn of the question flares into something brighter when Javier answers with resounding finality.

“Later."

 

* * *

 

 

Many things happen after that conversation, not all of them good. Yuzuru finds himself injured again on top of everything else, and while he doesn’t stop missing his partner, that particular pain dulls a little as the pain of rehabilitation and missing competitions rises. He still leans on Javier for support, but it’s much easier being angry at his current physical condition than at the intangible concept of time itself.

After all, Yuzuru has been through this before. It doesn’t make the experience any better, and he still steeps in his own bitterness while watching all the other, non-injured, skaters taking on ice that should have been his, too; but the fact no longer carries any amount of surprise.

His ankle is what it is, there’s no possible way to go back and mend it completely. His new normal means acknowledging the weakness and learning to work around it.

On the bad days, his mother tries to offer a silver lining: what’s done is done, but at least he now has the time to step back, heal, and recover his fitness again properly. The ice will wait for him, and there are still more medals to fight for. It’s not over, but in pause; merely a period of standby, before he can continue his flight forward.

And in the meantime, he could maybe take a little bit of a vacation.

Yuzuru is still ruminating over how to plan and fit everything within his current schedule and rehab plan when Javier gets to him first.

“Hey, Yuzu.”

The phone call catches Yuzuru off guard, pouring over his university notes in the Cricket Club’s lounge while he ices his ankle after the day’s physio session. As happy as he is to hear from his partner, the Spaniard’s mischievous tone automatically raises his suspicions.

“…Javi.”

“What, I don’t even get a hello? You’re colder than the ice we skate on, _cariño_.”

“Cheesy. I don’t trust this voice,” huffs Yuzuru. Javier further confirms his suspicions by chuckling. “What happen?”

“Oh, nothing mayor. Just this thing I saw while having breakfast this morning.”

The line falls silent in a dramatic pause. By now, Yuzuru is very much convinced that his partner is up to something, and decides to conveniently play along. He was getting bored, anyway, and playing with Javier is a nice distraction. “Oh?”

“You see, I got a notification on twitter. A big one.”

“Someone want to send you underwear again?”

“Oh my god, no. Yuzu, please.” Javier sounds only mildly horrified, so Yuzuru doesn’t feel that bad about cackling in his face. Figuratively.

“So?”

“So. Did you know Brian talked to the Olympic Channel while he was with Jun in Vancouver?”

They’re both aware of Yuzuru not being in the best of moods while the Grand Prix Final was going on. Yuzuru trusts Javier to not make him re-examine those feelings so soon, so he figures the true reason for all of this must be pretty innocuous. Interest piqued, he prods neutrally:

“Not really?”

“Well, he did. And he had a very special anecdote to share.” Javier’s voice drifts into expectant silence once more, and Yuzuru has to think twice about trusting his partner. He sounds too cheeky, which can’t be all good. “I didn’t know that you were pining after me so dramatically as to stop and gaze longingly at my flag in the middle of stroking class.”

It takes barely a moment for Yuzuru to realize what Javier’s talking about. Then the other shoe drops, the image crystal clear in his mind’s eye, and he lets himself fall facedown onto the table in front of him, effectively hiding the rising heat on his face even if he knows Javier can’t really see him. He has no such luck with the high-pitched whine that escapes from his lips, and he can only hope that at least the lone bartender working the cafeteria is far enough not to notice Yuzuru doing his best to melt into the floor.

He still keeps his phone secure in place, though, because Javier is laughing in merriment over the line and he can’t help but want to soak the feel of it in.

“…That only one time!”

“I wish I could have seen it. It must have been glorious, it made Brian ‘aww’ inside!”

“Oh my god.”

“Don’t be ashamed, _cariño_ , I think it’s very cute. You love me so much.”

Javier sounds so terribly fond, so much like the lovesick fool Yuzuru finds himself being sometimes, that Yuzuru can feel the heat of embarrassment dissipate into the comfortable warmth that Javier awakens within him.

_It’s true. I do love you, you silly, silly man._

“I hate you.”

“I know.” Javier’s smile is obvious in his voice. His partner always did have a talent for hearing what Yuzuru leaves unsaid. “I miss you too, you know?”

Yuzuru was definitely going to get on a plane soon. Whether he managed to remember to punch Javier in the shoulder before inevitably jumping into his arms was still anybody’s guess, but he was going to try.

He couldn’t wait for Christmas. He had been looking at the idea of Spain for too long: it was time for the real thing.

“I know.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler: Yuzuru completely forgets to punch Javier when they do meet again. Too many happy tears, and cuddles, and soft face kisses. He finds he doesn't care in the least ;)
> 
> ([Twitter](https://twitter.com/Valkedictorian), [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/Valkedictorian))


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